Llyraen in action...
by Llyraen Seaeyes
Summary: based on the SERRAted Edge series or whatever it is, about a new character, me, and my life in minute detail... just kidding. PG13 for language and maybe questionable content later on. my first fan-fic so I really need reviews and help and ideas and sugg
1. It all began when...

Llyraen in Action  
  
  
  
Llyraen Seaeyes strode confidently into the office of Keighvin Silverhair, head cheese of Fairgrove Auto Industries. He glanced up from some mysterious paper work commanding his personal attentions and at this new intruder. Llyraen mentally relished his expression quite clearly said 'Shit!' She had built up quite a reputation, starting with an eventful birth 302 years ago during the largest storm remembered in Underhill history, and, as her mother had out it, she had been born 'with the seasons in her hair, the sea in her eyes, and the wind in her feet'. Thus the name 'Seaeyes'. Her eyes were not the usual pale green, rather they changed from that green to a steely blue-gray and all the colors in between. She also had odd hair that changed with the season, firey red in Autumn, snowy white in winter, pale green in spring, and the usual pale gold in summer, and was a wanderer. Standard form for a royal child born during a storm of crackling magical energy, unfortunatly that 'standard' was based soley on reaseach on the effects of such energy, for the excelent reason that no one could thing of any instance in which that had happened before. Always a wanderer opportunist, and an avid fighter and mage, she had quickly become something of a horror to all the pompous windbags residing at court. Of course, not everyone at court had been that way, there had been others, like Keigvin, who had backed her up whenever arbitrary behaviour became an issue.  
  
Keighvin in particular, though, had been a solid friend, especially when she made that fateful decision to shed her rank and earn her way back up. That had been a day.  
  
The sunlight streamed through the arched windows and onto the stone floor, filling the room with a golden serenity at great odds with the agitated Llyraen within. Dressed in her usual outfit, leather riding breeches and a blue linen shirt rather than the elaborate gowns favored by the elven ladies of the court, she paced back and forth across the room. The thin band of gold circling her currently golden head was hardly noticeable unless it was looked for, and her eyes were a swirling maelstrom of blues and greens and greys, the beautiful calm of the sea before a massive storm. Step, step, step, step, turn, step, step, step, on it went until it seemed she must certainly wear a hole in either her soft boots or the floor. Suddenly the door opened to admit a strikingly handsome, almost beautiful, elven man who greatly resemebled Llyraen. He moved with the proud grace of a cat as he crossed the room and took a seat in one of the elaboratly carved chairs. Declining to follow his example, Llyraen turned abruptly towards him as he waited patiently for the seemingly imminent explosion, after all, it's not every day the king's own sister asks for a private audience with him.   
  
"Oberon!" She finally snapped, losing her patience and seemingly calm exterior at his damn confidence. "I mean, 'My King' " She executed an ironic half bow and frowned, her eyes now an icy blue. " I must ask a favor of you." Glancing up at him to gauge his reaction she continued. "I need to leave court immediatly." He frowned. She wouldn't ask for a private audience unless it was more important than her periodic dissaperances from court, unless it was a matter of a lover... ", you know how it is, everyone say's I'm a spoiled brat and that I don't deserve my rank. I just wish to enjoy life, why can't they see that?!" She resumed her pacing and plunged recklessly ahead. "So I was thinking that if I earned my rank, you know, cast it away and go out into the world to earn my way." She raised a hand to stifle his protests, "Hear me out. It would be best, I think, for then there would be no one who could say that I didn't deserve what I had, and if I don't make it very high again, well, that would just prove that they were right. I feel suffocated here- everyone expects me to act like Count Borune's daughter, and when I don't they near to die of hear failure because I want to live my own life!" As the tirade halted she knelt before him on the floor. 'Please brother, King, you know I can't possibly miss the way they point and whisper when my back is turned! I can't stand it! No matter what I do it's either not proper or not good enough. So maybe if I do this they'll respect me for who I am and stop trying to make me something I'm not."  
  
Oberon sighed. It made sense, but he still didn't like it. Llyraen was right on all accounts, if she stayed at court and retained her title she would never be respected. She was a wanderer and a trickster at heart and the best thing he could do for her was to let her go now rather than hold her at court against her will until something happened and she did something she would regret. "Alright, your can go."  
  
"Thank you Your Majesty." her muffled voice came from behind the curtain of hair cascading around her bent head.  
  
"Please don't call me 'Your Majesty' unless you must, remember that they wanted you to rule instead of me when they found out just how powerful you were. They are afraid of you, both for that power, and because you were able to refuse. There will always be those who point and whisper, no matter what you do for their respect." The old childhood gleam was back in his eye as he envisioned the court's reactions. "Damn but you know how to stir up trouble! It's going to be dull without you." She just grinned and stood up as he removed the circlet from her head.  
  
"Farewell my brother, until we meet again!"  
  
So, a hell'uva lot of adventures, roads, and lessons in cheating at cards and dice, she was back at Keigvin's doorstep, just like the day she had shown up at his domain in Ireland, cold, wet, bedraggled, and not at all regretting her decision. It was Keigvin who had taught her most of what she had known about dueling knights at the crossroads, some magic, and cars in Americ after the folk migrated there. Despite her attraction to the buisness, she had still yearned to roam the world, and now, having satisfied that need for the moment, she was ready to race again.  
  
"What is it lass?" Keighvin's voice brought her out of her reflections and she grinned benevolently at him.   
  
"I would like a job. Prefferably as a drive and/or mechanic." Keigvin raised an eloquent eyebrow. "C'mon Keigvin! I can drive pretty well, and I know just as much about cars as you do! And I've been working on my resistance to Cold Iron so I can mess with it with a minimum amount of damage, and I've been learning how to bend my magic so it works around it."  
  
'Oh I know you can do the job lass, no doubt about that, I was just calculating the risk of having you and you're damn sense of humor around for an extended period of time." Grimacing, she acknowledged that he had a point. "Also, we seem to attrack Unseleigh attention and there are bound to be confrontations, during which I know you would be useful, but I still don't want to have the job of explaining to the King why his sister lost an arm while under my care." She made a protesting noise. "Oh I know you tossed you're rank down a privy years ago, but you really have made progress on the rank charts and I don't thing you're brother would be very happy to lose the best mage he has around either. However, despite the various complications you would present, I believe I could get you a job on one condition."   
  
"What?" She asked suspiciously, Keighvin was notoriously clever at getting what he wanted.  
  
"You have to race Tannim..."   
  
'There's more isn't there."   
  
"Yes. And you have to win." He grinned, savoring the moment, it wasn't every day you could outwit Llyraen Seaeyes.  
  
"RACE TANNIM AND WIN?!?!!?!? Fine then, I will! And I won't cheat either. You bloodthirst, backstabbing blackguard! You yellow bellied mongrel the likes of which I have seen not since I fought Sir Mordred! You-"  
  
"Better watch you're mouth there lass, tis not a good idea to insult the boss!" As she fumed, he sugested that he show here the track and facilities. By the end of the round she had tested her tolerance to Cold Iron, been quizzed on several common problems, and memorized the location of every hidden weapon, every magnet, and every tool in the entire place and Keighvin felt like he might be able to deal with her 'jokes' after all if she could perform as well as he remembered.  
  
"And here we are. Pit 8." They had arrived at a pit where a young human had just pulled in and the crew was swarming all over the vehicle like ants.  
  
"Llyraen!" Tannim shouted as he sauntered over from the car. "Didn't know you were in this part of the country! Are you Wanted on the West Coast or what?" He glanced sideways as he refered to her habit of cheating at cards, dice, or anything other game she could learn.  
  
"Yeah, I suppose there's a downside to doing somethings the human way, but cheating with magic is just so much less entertaining. No?"  
  
"I wouldn't know, but I'll go on you're word in that area." He grinned.  
  
"Hmm." Keighvin leveled an icy gaze at Llyraen. "Well anyway. Tannim, I was hoping you would race this insolent upstart, and hopefully beat her so I don't have to hire her." Keighvin gave the sigh of the long suffering. "She wants a job here and that was the only test I could think of that would have a chance to keep her and her evil genius out of Fairgrove.   
  
Tannim's grin broadened. "Sure, sure. When do we race?"  
  
"Well, I suspect she'll need to get used to a car before she wants to race you in it, and even though she's got an amazing tolerance to Cold Iron she'll problably want to drive the Victor."  
  
"Alright. I'll get in touch with Conal about the car and hopefully you can be in it by tomorrow."   
  
"Thanks Tannim, I really truly appreciate every effort on you're part to rub in the fact that you're one of the best drivers alive. I believe that in order to repay you I will refrain from cheating."  
  
"Oh the pain, the agony!" Tannim staggered backwards, clutching his hands to his chest.  
  
"How about next Tuesday at 10:00 AM. That'll give you a week to get used to the Victor and become acquainted with the area. I know a couple of people to hook you up with who know the best parts of the place." Keighvin grinned. "I,ve got to get back to my office and buisness so you can wander around. Just get acquainted with the people and what they're doing, and," He paused for significance, "Don't sucker anyone into a game of cards or whatever you're latest favorite is."  
  
"I'll be on my best behavior for today." Saluting smartly, Llyraen turned on her heel and wandered off to pester the mechanics.  
  
"Blessed Danaa, what have I gotten myself into?" Keighvin asked no one in particular, then strode back to his office to finish writing his letter to King Oberon. "At least we know where she is now."  
  



	2. The Big Race

Ok. I forgot to put in my little talk on the first chapter so now you're gonna have to suffer through the elongated version. First of all I don't own anything at all in this story, Mercedes Lackey and the various co-authors who wrote these books with her own it all. So sad for me. Unfortunately, while I normally would have claimed to own Llyraen Seaeyes, I can no longer do that. She made it quite clear that she was her own character, and I hereby disavow any connections I had with her- I have a feeling she's gonna get 'happy' over some macho macho elf dude. Hmmmm, I wonder who. (Being sarcastic incase you couldn't tell.) Just F.Y.I. and all, Llyraen started out as an entity in my head, however, now she takes over my body whenever I write about this. There is a catch, as there is with all things- she can only come out when I listen to Backstreet Boys (yuck!) or rock (not so bad, I almost like some of it.) Anyway.  
Special thanks to everyone who reviewed, I think Mercedes Lackey is an awesome writer, and more people should write fanfics about her stuff. In an answer to Wave Walker's question, I believe this does take place after Chrome Circle, I was a bit unsure on that point, but that does make the most sense. If it's all right with everyone, and Llyraen doesn't mind I might be able to get her to write about before she showed up at Fairgrove, like when she was in Oregon and stuff. I just finished Bedlam's Bard and I'm currently reading Summoned to Tourney, so Llyraen might acquire some mysterious musical talents. Sorry people, I'm hopeless with the superhero who can do everything bit, but, you know how it is. That's all (quite extensive anyway) So I'll shut up and get on with the story.  
  
  
  
Chapter 2  
The big race  
  
Getting out of the shower, Llyraen grabbed a towel and dried herself briskly. Today was the day- today she would see if all her extra training had been enough. She vividly remembered the last time she had raced Tannim and scowled in momentary irritation. She did NOT like losing. Kenning some clothes, she pulled her hair, which was turning from the gold of summer to the flame red of autumn, back in a ponytail and viewed herself in a mirror. The form fitting leather would be easy to move in, and she just might need that if it got to hot. Llyraen grinned in anticipation, even if she lost again, (and she didn't intend to) this would be fun, lots of fun. Popping some bread in the toaster, she considered her position. She was pretty sure Keighvin would keep her around as long as she needed to stay, but she had decided against getting a real house when she could just ken a trailer and make it bigger on the inside than the outside with another of her many un-elf-like abilities, most of which were good for nothing but getting her into trouble. Grabbing the toast as it popped up, she headed out the door and danced over to her elvensteed, Aodhfin, who was in the form of a red Porsche 911 Turbo. Since Aodhfin knew where Fairgrove was, Llyraen just sat back to enjoy the ride.   
  
Contrary to what Keighvin had expected her to be, anxious and irritable, Llyraen was positively gleeful as she streaked down the 'private drag strip' at the gates of Fairgrove. As she approached the main complex, Keighvin could hear the music pouring out the open window of the porsche, music, he suspected, that Tannim or Alinor would listen to. The music stopped at the same time as the car, elvensteed he suspected, and Llyraen jumped out, grinning like a maniac.  
  
"Hello Keighvin!" She greeted him brightly, rubbing her hands together in anticipation, she had long since decided that she might as well enjoy the race and the adrenalin rush it brought on, being cantankerous wouldn't change the outcome favorably. Unfortunately, Keighvin interpreted her enthusiasm differently.  
  
"Alright Seaeyes, which card do you have up you're sleeve this time?"  
  
Frowning, Llyraen considered the concept that having a reputation was not always a good thing. "I told you I wouldn't cheat, and I won't. That should be enough."  
  
Mow it was Keighvin's turn to frown. "I trust you're word, I'm just wondering what you might know about this situation, you HAVE got a certain reputation, you know."  
  
Llyraen sighed dramatically. "Sometimes reputations get in the way," She complained morosely, "I cheat at cards, not racing, if I couldn't beat someone honestly with just my skills then I would deserve to lose. And besides, if I cheated at this no one would ever trust me again-" She was interrupted as Keighvin snickered, "Really Keighvin, no matter what you say, you trust me, and frankly, I don't want to lose that."  
  
"Then why are you grinning like a psycho killer who just blew up the insane asylum?" Keighvin demanded, arching an eyebrow at her in imitation of one of her slightly annoying habits.  
  
Llyraen shrugged and smirked, " You've been watching Mystery Men again, haven't you? Anyway, I decided that if I was going to lose the damn race anyway, being dismal about it wouldn't change anything to a more favorable conclusion."  
  
"Remembering last time eh? You still don't seem very confident, and that's a helluva lot more important than most people think." He grimaced, referring to her constant mentioning of 'If I lose again'.  
  
"Most people. I'm just peachy inside, Keighvin, absolutely peachy. My brain controls my mouth, not my heart."  
  
"Most of the time." Keighvin smirked again.  
  
"Alright, most of the time, like now, I think."  
  
"Well, I hate to encourage you to hang around here, but still, Good Luck lass."  
  
"Thanks Keighvin, you know how much this means to me." Llyraen was still grinning, but something in her eyes told Keighvin that she wasn't totally sarcastic, and he knew that she hated to lose at all, especially to the same person twice.  
  
  
Speeding around the corner and down the straightaway, Llyraen was pulling nearer to Tannim, slowly. As they completed the fourth lap and started the fifth and final one, she hugged the inside of the track. Normally, even the Victor couldn't make that turn at the speed she was going, but Llyraen could do nearly anything with a car if she practiced enough, and she most certainly had. As they headed down the final stretch, Tannim began closing the gap between him and the edge of the track, effectively forcing her to forcing her behind him. 'No you don't laddie!' Llyraen thought, scowling viciously, and dropped back suddenly, then swerved outward and into the next lane. She had lost ground, but all was not lost... Pressing her foot to the gas, Llyraen shot forward, already at the last meter marker and drew up even with Tannim, holding her position as they roared across the line. Suddenly, all the exterior noise she had been tuning out burst in on Llyraen as she slowed down and rolled to a stop next to 'her' team of mechanics. The whole 'population' of Fairgrove had turned out for the event, and it seemed that every one of them was making as much noise as possible. 'Hell that was fun!' She thought, savoring the lingering effects of the race. Even if she hadn't quite won, it had been a helluva lot closer than the last time, and it felt good to be back behind the racing wheel.  
  
Keighvin approached her where she leaned against the wall, looking comically solemn. "It was terribly close. Less than a centimeter even-"  
  
"What happened? C'mon Keighvin, stop being cruel!"  
  
"Well," He drawled slowly, grinning at her as she foamed at the mouth, "You won! It was some of the best driving I've ever seen!"  
  
Llyraen allowed herself to beam smugly. "Does that mean I get the job?"  
  
"I suppose." Keighvin sighed dramatically. "I did say you could if you won."  
  
"Hey Keighvin?" Llyraen began hesitantly.  
  
"Yes lass?"   
  
"Did you really think I could do it? Be completely serious."  
  
"As a matter of fact I did. You do well in pressure situations, and like you said, I know how much this means to you. You never could just give up after losing once, and those are a couple of reasons I think you'll do well here. I also wanted to see if all your extra practice with those getaway vehicles we've been hearing about would help."  
  
Llyraen winked. "You have NO idea Keighvin, absolutely none."  
  
He chuckled slyly. "I'm not sure I want to."  
  
They turned as Tannim jogged over to them, "Hey Llyraen!" His face was nearly hidden by his enormous smile. " Nice driving."  
  
Llyraen threw a comradely arm around his shoulder. " You too Greeneyes. By the way, Conal showed me his hair. Ever considered going into the styling business?" Tannim winced. When he was tired his aim tended to become a little erratic, on a previous occasion he had given Conal a reverse mohawk while trying to hit some Unseliegh attackers in a completely different direction. "Anyway, I've gotta disappear-" She poked Tannim suddenly, retracting her arm, "Hey, who's the fox lady?"   
  
"Hmm? Oh, that's Shar."   
  
Keighvin smirked. "She and Tannim are 'Involved'."  
  
Llyraen raised an eyebrow and introduced herself to Shar. "Hey! I'm Llyraen Seaeyes. Nice to meet you." At Shar's odd expression she winced. "What HAS this idiot been telling you? Just because I cheat at cards, I like flying fighter jets and bagpipes, that doesn't make me a bad person, I just like a little adventure! Anyway, as I was saying, I've gotta go, I've got a track meet to run in." At their blank looks, she explained impatiently. "You know, running, with your feet. The 'hundred meter. Jeeze."  
  
And off she went, flurries of Chaos in her wake. "Why would you do something like running for fun?" Tannim demanded, wondering why she had known to call him Greeneyes, and how she had known Shar was a Kitsune when there was nothing fox like about her.  
  
"Well, she does like Fighter Jets and Bagpipes too... And she also cheats at cards for fun..." Keighvin began, a smile spreading across his face. "You just can't tell with her." They all watched as she roared off towards the gates. "You just can't tell."  



	3. The Gate Alarm Alarms

Sorry I took so long to get this chapter up, now that track has started, that in combination with soccer has kept me away from my dear and beloved computer. Any plot suggestions should be e-mailed to me, any pictures of Llyraen should be e-mailed to me, etc. etc. etc. In this chapter we get to meet the Bad Guy, Llyraen takes a car apart, and well, it's mostly a connecter to the next chapter which will be up as soon as possible. I don't feel like writing another disclaimer, so don't sue me for anything, I didn't do it, and in the 'rare' instance that I do something illegal, I didn't do it on purpose. (Unless it was toilet papering someones tree, burning an outhouse, you know, the stuff that SHOULDN'T be illegal. Have fun and continue to fly Insanityward Airlines, we love you're reviews more than you're money. Might be a poll about what Llyraen's past is like coming out sometime soon, I love polls.  
  
Lorcan Dhu crumpled the letter he had been reading and threw it into the fire pit, his expression dark. It was from one of his allies, pointedly suggesting that, since Llyraen Seaeyes was at Fairgrove, he might move to destroy both her and Keighvin Silverhair all together in one giant stroke. He had expected that, but the letter went on to hint that he was not living up to his allies' expectations, they were becoming agitated and that he might expect hostility if he did not remedy the situation. As if the fools could ever do anything to him anyway! He paced irately back and forth across his throne room, considering this new situation. He might as well attack Fairgrove, he had plenty of Lesser Unseleigh minions to field a satisfactory fighting force, and he just might get Llyraen, or Keighvin, or both. At least if he made the attempt, his allies wouldn't turn on his quite so soon, and he could count on doing some damage to Silverhair's precious establishment.  
"Dorril!" He barked, his voice echoing eerily in the vaulted room. A shaggy creature of unspecified race scampered into the hall. "Inform the goblins and the trolls that we will be mounting an attack on Fairgrove tomorrow evening. I want everyone ready by noon tomorrow- topside. Oh, and remind me to contact some of my more reliable allies, I might need their assistance." As his underling scuttled off, a ghost of a feral smile passed over his lips and he began composing a challenge to Keighvin Silverhair.  
* * * * *  
"Llyraen! Where ARE you?!" Conal's voice came from the left of the Victor, which Llyraen was working on, and she thought she could see his feet.  
"I'm under the Victor!" She shouted back, propelling herself back out into the light of day. "Whaddaya want?" She squinted up at him, trying to discern his outline against the blazing sun. "You look a bit sour."  
"I'm supposed to brush up on my sword fighting. Keighvin suggested that I ask you to practice with me, give me some pointes on my technique." Conal scowled.  
"Poor Conal, Keighvin tells him to seek the weapons expertise of a maid, and a younger one at that. Don't worry; I've improved my style since last we met. I'd be honored to cross blades with ye." She stood up and dusted off her bright red 'I'm a race car driver!' coveralls and looked thoughtful for a moment. "Why would Keighvin suggest that now? From all I've heard and seen he's more likely to encourage working on the racing aspect than the fighting, and besides, we canna do it here. I wonder that it's you he wants brushing up."  
Conal shrugged. "He said he had a premonition, Lorcan Dhu's big on exploiting opportunities, and with you here we make a nice juicy target."  
Llyraen sighed dramatically. "Ah, but think how much I can improve you backwater provincials in the arts of racing and fighting. After all, Keighvin suggested the great Conal learn from me." She snickered and ducked as he took a swipe at her head.  
"At least the great Conal can tell the difference between kitchen appliances, I still remember how you put a fish in the dishwasher for dinner last time you were here!" He looked incredibly smug, and Llyraen couldn't come up with a good rejoinder to that one so she changed the subject.  
"So where are we gonna go to chop each other up into itty bitty pieces? I'm sure an exhibit of pointy eared warriors in practice armor with giant swords would really improve business."  
"There's a weapons room deep in the heart of the complex. It's for elves who want to take a 'break' from the hard physical labor of racing."  
* * * * *   
Trudging back out to the track after narrowly 'defeating' Conal, Llyraen reflected sourly that Keighvin had probably provoked Conal like that intentionally. She had needed to re-acquaint herself with her sword after nearly 3 months at Fairgrove without a single fight, and better against Conal than some Unseleigh Knight who had been fighting the day before. And so, after reporting to Keighvin on the outcome of their mock-battle, she and Conal headed their separate ways. Back under the Victor, happily dissembling the car in a supposed attempt to change the oil, Llyraen was startled to find that it was growing dark. When she couldn't see well enough to work anymore, she headed in. By that time the rest of the racetrack staff had gravitated into a group and were waiting for Keighvin to come with the end-of-the-day announcements.   
Conal, Tannim, and Dotty were discussing something in a smaller group off to the side with Sam, the legal brains of the secrecy front.  
"... Said he had a premonition, I suspect he's investigating it."  
"Told me he had a premonition too, had me and Llyraen practice today- But I don't think anything'll happen tonight. Even they have to follow the rules if they don't want the King coming after them, and they haven't challenged us yet."  
Llyraen picked her moment to join the conversation. "Who exactly is it that would be challenging us? Nothing's happened since I got here, so I don't know who the enemy it this time around."  
"Lorcan Dhu. He showed up about six months ago, stirring up a little trouble here and there, some minor skirmishes. Ever since we routed him last time he's been pretty quiet, but I don't trust his silence, when the enemy's quiet, that's the time to really worry. We think he's planning something big." Dotty frowned. "He's completely mad. He and Keighvin have been enemies for a long time, a matter of human treatment, I believe. He was supposedly over in Europe before this, but we don't know if that's true or not."  
Llyraen frowned. "So he's Unseleigh now, was he ever at court? What does he look like?" She was becoming suspicious.  
Conal took up the debriefing. "Yes he was. A fair time ago it was too, then he left because the King was getting agitated with the way he treated humans and he didn't want a public expulsion."  
Tannim snorted. "That's you're opinion. I think he just thought he could cause more trouble if he didn't have to be careful about who was watching him."  
"Anyway," Conal glared at Tannim, "Madoc, or whatever his name was fell in with him for a while, but the Unseleigh, especially the more powerful ones, don't like sharing power so he left. He's tall, has long blonde hair, the usual. What's the matter? You look like you're choking on a particularly vile piece of sushi." Llyraen's dislike of raw fish was notorious.  
"I thought the name sounded familiar," She snarled, clenching her fists, "Lorcan Dhu was one of the leaders of the Anti-Human faction. It wasn't THAT long ago, I'm only about 215, and I remember it. My father, King Ailin, was worried about what trouble he might stir up once he was out of sight."  
"Ah." Tannim nodded sagely. "Now it fits. King Ailin wouldn't condone his treatment of humans, forcing him to leave court. You're King Ailin's daughter, and King Oberon's sister, so getting rid of you would be a nice way to say hello to the family. He and Keighvin came to blows over a human on several instances, I'm suspecting, and if he's got any allies, he's probably under pressure from them to attack, with such a nice target sitting under his nose. Keighvin had you and Conal practice you're combat skills, since you have touched your sword for several months." His eyes twinkled. "I be Conal almost got you a couple of times, didn't he?"  
Llyraen grinned. "Aye laddie, it was a close thing. I'm suspecting I won't be so lucky next time." Conal just snorted and smirked in a self satisfies way. Keighvin had mandated regular practice sessions after learning how close it had been, first just her and Conal, then after a while all the elves would do it, with uneven odds and everything.  
Abruptly the gate alarm went off, the clamoring of the bells and the flashing of the lights caused everyone to levitate in surprise. Conal, Tannim, Dotty, and Llyraen rushed out to the front where Keighvin stood, silhouetted by the flickering lights as he bent to pick something up from the ground. Llyraen and Tannim dashed over to the gate to try and locate the intruder, but to no avail. Conal and Dotty were hammering Keighvin with questions as Llyraen and Tannim jogged back over to them. Keighvin was holding an arrow in one hand and a slip of paper in the other and looking very grim indeed.  
He handed the message to Llyraen who read it, her expression darkening with every word.   
"A challenge. Tomorrow at Five P.M." She glanced up at Keighvin, "He's very specific. Here he says '...Challenges Keighvin Silverhair and the establishment of Fairgrove Racetrack, including all beings currently employed at said establishment...' He sounds like a damn politician!"   
Wordlessly, Keighvin retrieved the message from Llyraen's hand and replaces it with the arrow, which, she now noticed, had a glove wound around it. She unwound it and examined it. "Left hand glove, He wants to kill somebody, presumably several somebodies." She wracked her brains for the rules of group challenges; it had been so long since she had done anything in a group- since California. "Despite the left hand glove, it can't be to the death by virtue of it being a group challenge. It won't be to the first blood either, same reason. In fact, the actual challenge remains the same as it would have been with out the glove, just a little more malicious intent shown- so why did he include it?"  
Conal scowled, "So we can stand around arguing about it while we should be informing the rest of Fairgrove what the problem was."  
Tannim nodded solemnly, "We should explain what set off the gate alarm, speaking of which, who turned it off?" Only then did they notice that Dotty was missing.  
"Dotty must have done it then, she's always thinking one step ahead of everyone else." Conal shrugged. "Let's share the news." He gestured for Keighvin to precede him.  
"Alright. I want to meet you three in my office after we get things cleared up a little. Don't mention the glove- I want to keep quiet about that until we have an idea of what it means." The rest nodded at the wisdom of that and followed him inside.   



	4. A Fight Commences

Chapter 4- A fight commences  
  
Special thanks to Sarima O' the Evil Bushes for advising me as to the Mary Sueish nature of Llyraen's tale, I re-read it and agreed. I hope to fix that situation within this chapter, but one can only hope. Oh yeah, thanks to everyone who reviewed, and to Claire, I'm not Sarima, but she does help me edit this story of mine (Excuuuuuuuuuse me! Llyraen wants to inform you that she does not approve of me taking the credit for what she wrote. I get to type everything this time because she's injured. I think she broke her arm whilst evacuating a car she crashed. Never mind. That's not the case, but she won't tell me what happened. Anyway.)  
Consider the Disclaimer delivered, I HATE writing those things. Everyone knows the moon is made of cheese! Yeah. Llyraen's back. She's decided I need to get a life and let HER write HER story. Some people (elves are people right?)   
In this chapter there is a jolly old fight a jolly old chase, and a jolly old cannibalistic feast (just kidding, almost.) Anyway. Here comes the story.  
  
Llyraen yawned, blinked a couple of times, and bounced up off the couch she had fallen onto, fully dressed, to try and get some sleep. After discussing the ramifications of the extraneous glove for hours, they had come to the conclusion that, as he had demonstrated on previous occasions, Lorcan Dhu liked adding extra details to the extent that anything he did became tawdry and tacky. Keighvin suspected that he had added the glove as a reminder that he was out for blood, and also as a tool for inducing them to become edgy and nervous, more so than usual, about the upcoming confrontation, and to keep them up all night discussing it. Keighvin made that his closing statement, and the four had stayed at Fairgove to get what sleep they could. Llyraen, being an early riser by nature and by choice, had gotten approximately one hour of sleep, and woken up at 5:00 AM, feeling, for the first time in her life, like she wanted to sleep more, but couldn't and besides, she had work to do. She was nearly finished with putting the Victor back together; all she needed to do was screw in a couple more bolts. Of course, the complete disassembly of the car was not necessary to change the oil, a simple operation, but she had been hearing some odd noises, and besides, she had been curious. Walking into the Kitchen of the emergency residence quarters, she was confronted by a frowning Keighvin.  
"Damn it Seaeyes, go back to sleep. It's not even Six yet! Do I need to assign you a nursemaid?"  
"But I always get up early! I can't help it! And I need to finish putting the Victor back together." She protested feebly, knowing that she needed more than one hour of sleep it she was going to be at her best for the fight later on.  
Keighvin echoed her thoughts, shaking a finger at her sternly. "We need you at you're best this evening. And that includes getting enough sleep. I myself am just going to post the day's assignments for the rest of the folks, then go back to bed. We don't know what happens to your aim when you're tired, but if you're anything like Tannim we want you either fully rested or safely in another country. Now turn around and return to that couch. Oh, and you don't need to worry about Aodhfin, I've got someone listed for fodder duty. Sleep." As Llyraen blinked dazedly and tried to assimilate that information, he turned and strode off, assignments in hand, muttering about morning people.  
When she woke for the second time that day, Llyraen was fully rested and utterly horrified to discover that it was already noon. The cheerful noises floating on the crisp autumn air informed her that rest of the racetrack was awake and busy. She jumped off of the couch and raced off to the shower, grabbing a towel, washcloth, and assorted soaps off the piles that were stacked everywhere in the outer room. Closing the door and flipping the 'busy' sign, she proceeded to turn on the shower at a very hot, very high temperature and level, and become unhealthily clean. Once out of the shower she dried herself off, kenned some clothes, and dashed off to the kitchen for a piece of toast and a glass of milk. After it's hectic start, the day passed in a blur of cars, bolts, cars, and more cars for Llyraen, she finished reassembling the Victor, drove several test runs, was teased mercilessly for sleeping in, and tried to help Tannim fix his precious Mustang. While they worked, he satisfied her curiosity about the Victor, she hadn't seen it since she had left before it was more than some scribbles on paper.  
"It was Donal's pet project." He began, saddening momentarily at the memory of his friend's death. "He was always polishing off imaginary specks, fixing minor or imaginary mechanical problems, you know what I mean. He wouldn't let anyone but the most trusted people even touch it."  
"Meaning he's have been appalled that I of all people drove it." Llyraen grinned wryly. She had by now discovered the true extent to which her reputation had spread, and was torn between amusement and horror.  
"No, I think he would have let you drive it, you know you're stuff. Anyway, now Conal's the thing's most devoted worshiper and slave. By the way, he nearly had a nervous breakdown when you reduced the whole bottom half of it to little pieces of super light metal. I had to remind him that you were in on planning it before he could do anything but twitch." His voice held a distinctly reproving edge to it.  
"Shit. I'll have to apologize to him about that. You know I can't stand not knowing how something works! Oh well. I'll try to keep my hands to myself."  
"Yeah well, you being so goddamn perfect and all, I'm sure he'll forgive you. Now if I were the one messing with his precious car, I'd be disemboweled and slow roasting over a fire by now. So tell me, is there anything you're NOT good at? I mean, you being the resident expert warrior, mage, driver, card player, fast talker, musician, runner, and actress, beside being the most cold iron resistant Sidhe this side of the universe."  
"You forgot Figher Pilot." Llyraen announced as Tannim mimed throttling the air in front of him. "Actually, I can't cook, dance, write poetry, use microwaves, dishwashers, ovens, or any other kitchen appliances besides a toaster. I have a talent for getting injured, attracting trouble, I can't stay anywhere for very long, sit down for very long, listen to long and pompous speeches without rudely interrupting them with a bagpipe, I'm a morning person, probably the worst of my crimes, the list goes on. I have difficulty accepting authority too. I went through the human education system JUST FOR FUN, and I got into more trouble than all the other kids combined."  
Tannim snickered. "I had no idea. I stand corrected and consider myself an enlightened being. I had head you had been in the slow roasting situation once or twice yourself, and had to do some fast-talking. Now I'm guessing it's been more than once or twice."  
At Llyraen's solemn nod of affirmation, he cackled evilly again. "Jeeze. Pass me that wrench would you, we're almost done here."  
Llyraen slowed down and edged warily around the corner of the building, alert of the smallest sign of motion. She and Tannim had finished on the Mustang, and after apologizing to Conal for messing with his beloved car, she had spent the next half an hour on the run, hiding from Conal himself, who, wielding an extraordinarily dangerous looking fire poker, had chased her around the racetrack, howling insults at her, and promising dire retributions once he caught her. Tannim had not been lying about Conal's cooking abilities, he had gone over about a hundred slow roasting methods and was still going strong, It seemed he knew all the ways to roast a miscreant elf alive. Their fellow mechanics had seemed quite amused last Llyraen had seen them, rolling on the ground and howling as if they were about to wet their pants. Many of them shouted encouragements to one elf or another, egging them on to greater 'achievements'. Suddenly spotting Conal coming around the corner behind her, she ducked behind a trashcan and jumped out onto his back when he came around.   
"Surrender to the dark side of the force!" She gasped, quoting Star Wars, one of the movies she knew he had seen. "Besides, it's getting late."  
"Alright, I surrender. You're just lucky I haven't been training for running like you." He gasped back, equally if not more winded than she was. They walked back out to the track amidst cheers. Conal had an odd glint in his eyes so Llyraen apprehended the fire poker just incase, which brought more laughter from the throng.  
"Here we come, bringing joy to the masses." She sang, bowing eloquently again and again.  
As it neared 4:30, the previous excitement had settled down to be replaced by an new one as people began cleaning up from their various activities and pulled silk wrapped weapons from the oddest places. Llyraen summoned her armor, and sword, Feidhlim, and went to find Dotty to bombard her with questions about previous battles, Fairgrove's defenses, the humans' involvement, what kind of weapons would be most efficient, what kind of strategy Dotty was expecting, until Dotty finally just told her to shut up. While Dotty finished preparing for the imminent combat, she wandered off to find Aodhfin whom she hadn't seen since checking in on him that morning. Finding that he was well and ready to go, she sadly told him that she probably wouldn't be able to take him into the battle, the night before, Keighvin had suggested that previous engagements with Lorcan Dhu's forces showed that they liked to take the mounts out first, since that invariably disabled the rider long enough for them to get in. Aodhfin didn't like it, but accepted it when she promised to go riding sometime soon.   
"You know Aodhfin," She smiled conspiratorially at him, "All the bad guys seem to like the surname 'Dhu'! Of course," She added hastily as Keighvin's elvensteed Rosaleen Dhu snorted, "Not everyone with that name is a bad guy. I stand corrected." She half bowed to Rosaleen and Aodhfin and waved jauntily. " I must be away now. The council of war will else start without me."  
When she returned to the main building, she drifted over to Dotty who was toting a howitzer that Llyraen had no doubts she knew how to use. Llyraen could tell by the way she was handling it and made a mental note never to get on Dotty's bad side.  
Keighvin rapped out instructions and placements, calm, cool, and collected till the last. Finally, after what seemed to Llyraen to be ages, he got to her. "Llyraen, you're going with Conal on the left so you can get an idea of the layout without being under direct fire. Alright, have I missed anyone?" He waited for someone to speak up, expecting none, and getting none. After a minute he continued. "Well then. No friendly fire, and no suicidal hero crap. Right?"   
"Right!" Everyone shouted in unison, rushing out to take their places.  
"Llyraen! Wait a moment will you?" Keighvin reached her where she stood by the door. "That ban on heroics goes for you too. If someone's in trouble, help them. If there's an opening, take it, just as long as you think you can get out alive." She nodded, saluted him, and clapped him on the arm before joining Conal.  
An explosion just outside the gates set off the alarms again, and as they hurried to their positions, the enemy approached the inner gates.  
"Shiiiiiiiit." Conal exhaled on a slow whistle. Llyraen knew what he meant. Goblins, hordes of them, were marching through the outer gates, firing arrows and other projectiles at the building and it's defenders. After them came trolls, and other assorted creatures, all large, swinging giant battle axes into the fray. Following them came Unseleigh Elven Warriors, toting swords, spears, and elven bolts, these were followed by the tree mages.   
Conal ducked behind a tree just as an elven bolt thudded into the ground where he had been standing seconds before. Llyraen kenned her bow and quiver of elven bolts at the same time as he did, and they let loose a volley into the midst of the horde. Llyraen noticed that the humans in the woods were taking down a good number of the multitude with their iron spewing machine guns, and an earth-shattering roar that could only be Dotty's howitzer, then there was no time for anything but fighting.  
Keighvin had planned for them to major engagement, but it was not so as Conal motioned for another volley of bolts, and as they let loose, a group of Elven Knights broke off from the main host and galloped towards them as if it had been planned. Swearing softly, Conal and Llyraen moved back to back and faced the circling Knights. Feinting suddenly, the whole circle closed in, swinging their sickly glowing blades in deadly patterns, sweeping and thrusting, charging and retreating in a macabre dance.  
"It'll take more than eight of you bastards to bring us down!" Llyraen snarled, parrying a blow from one of the riders. She twisted her blade, and with a flick sent her adversary's flying into the night. Taking advantage of his momentary shock, she hit him with a blast of raw power, and he toppled slowly from his elvensteed who snorted and jumped out of the way. Behind her she could hear Conal dispatching another rider, and realized that they were not in the best of positions, back to back, for hand to hand fighting since she fought mostly with her left arm and he with his right, they left an entire side open to their enemies. The air crackled with power, and rang with the clashing of weapons. Looking up at the rider that had taken her fallen opponent's place, Llyraen blanched. She remembered that face, those eyes, from her childhood. She was fighting Lorcan Dhu, and elven warrior and mage with centuries more experience than her. His sword flashing like lightening, he stabbed her right arm between the plates of her armor. She winced, but continued fighting, painfully bringing up her right arm to hurl a ball of fire at him, which he banished with appalling ease. She parried the powerful downward arc of his sword with strength born of desperation. In slow motion, she saw his blade slide along her own, and watched as the impact with her hilt jarred Feidhlim out of her hand. As he pulled back to deliver the final blow, she kenned a great double bladed battle axe and slammed it into his blade, the momentum carrying it up through the hilt, deflecting slightly and plunging into his shoulder. As she let go of the giant weapon, it fell free of his arm and thudded into the ground and he wheeled and galloped away, his arm hanging limply at his side.  
Llyraen tried to turn around to help Conal, but tripped over a fallen elf. In her dazed state, she was vaguely surprised at the number of bodies lying around her feet, all obviously Unseleigh. She hadn't remembered fighting more than more than two knights, and she had remembered only eight approaching them, and there were easily three times that many, with Lorcan Dhu appearing to be the only one to get away. Conal was in about the same shape as she was, his sword was missing too, and he had several minor cuts that were bleeding profusely, and his left arm was hanging at an odd angle. Supporting each other, they staggered through the carnage, stopping first to dislodge Feidhlim from the ground where it had fallen, and then to retrieve Conal's blade from the tree in which it had been embedded. Leaning heavily against each other, they continued back to the main complex, swords at the ready, and only then did they notice that the sounds of battle had completely faded, and the air was preternaturally still. Stumbling out of the trees, they made it a few more steps before sinking unconscious to the ground. As she retreated into the darkness of oblivion, Llyraen was dimly aware of someone hurrying towards them and bending over them, murmuring their names.  
  



	5. Rest, Recouperation, and... A Driver's L...

  
Rest, Recuperation and ... A Driver's License?  
  
Consider the obvious disclaimer stated. I'm sorry this took so long to get up, I've been working on another story too, a short one, being an original. This chapter is, I suppose, a bit of a filler whilst I try to figure out what should happen NEXT chapter. Having creativity problems. Anyway. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed, I appreciated it.  
  
  
  
When Llyraen woke up next, she was lying on a bed in a white room with obnoxiously bright lights, which she could only see out of her left eye. She tried to sit up but found that any movement jarred her right shoulder, and caused lances of pain to shoot out of the wound there. Finally she managed prop herself up against the wall and surveyed herself for damage.   
Besides the shoulder wound, the only one she remembered getting, her left leg was bandaged from ankle to thigh, her left hand was wrapped up, her whole right side was on fire, and there was some sort of bandage across her forehead and over her right eye, hence her disability to see out of it.  
At that moment, Keighvin walked into the room and made a disgusted noise. "Why can't you just stay in bed, lying down like a good patient instead of sitting up and moving around? You'll delay your recovery and I couldn't find anyone else willing to make sure you stay in bed."  
She smiled crookedly. "D'you have crutches or something so I can walk around? I'm wasting away from hunger here, being hacked to itty bitty pieces is hard work."  
Keighvin looked up at the ceiling as if it held all the secrets of the universe. "I'll get someone to bring you some breakfast. You are going to stay in bed until Lady Meriel says you can leave it." He gave her a stern look and she pretended to cower beneath it."  
"Lady Meriel's here?" Llyraen gave Keighvin a horrified glance, "But I can't bribe her, she's my friend!" She appeared to be shifting between being disconsolate at that relevation, and glee that she would get to see her childhood friend again. "And where's Conal? How's he doing?" Llyraen looked apprehensive. Her friend had been in bad shape last she had seen him.  
"Conal's already up and moving around, he got a few cuts and scrapes, broke his left arm, but he can still walk without messing anything up. Unlike you." He glared pointedly at Llyraen who had been trying to get up again.  
"Casualties?" Llyraen always dreaded finding that part out, it made her feel guilty for some reason, although she knew there was never anything she could have done.  
"None!" Keighvin's face lifted into a tired smile. "We had to work hard to save a couple, but they made it."  
Llyraen grinned and settled back comfortably against the wall once more, relaxing muscles she had unconsciously tensed. "Splendid. How long have I been asleep?" Nervously, she chewed on a knuckle; anxious about the information she was about to receive.  
"Six days. You were out pretty hard." It was then that Llyraen noticed the bandage on His arm.  
"Well, I suppose that's to be expected. I take it you didn't get away entirely unscathed either, no?" She inclined her head in the direction of his arm.  
He grimaced. "Remember what I said about the suicidal heroics? Well HE was right THERE, so I went for him. Only catch was, he moved and there were two others standing behind him, and I very nearly got cut off from the rest of my group, not to mention hacked to itty bitty pieces, as you so eloquently put it."  
Llyraen snickered. "Practice what you preach Old Man, it gets back to you, otherwise."  
"Old Man, huh? Why is it that an Old Man like me came out of it with just a scratch while you, idiot child though you are, but still one of the best and youngest knights at court, are still in bed?" He cocked an eyebrow at her, inviting her to respond to that barb.  
"Respect for your frail mental and physical condition?" She asked him ingeniously, widening her eyes to imply that She would have let him off too. "And besides, I would be out of bed by now it you let me."  
"Since in my frail mental and physical condition, there is o way I can make you do anything, why don't you try getting out of bed now, huh? Go ahead try it. Touch one toe to the floor before Healer Meriel OK's it, and you'll find yourself in a body cast young lady." He glared meaningfully at her. "Anyway. I want to hear your side of the story, Conal's already shared his, and I want to see if you can shed some light on a couple of questions I have."  
So she started to tell him, meaning only to give a brief outline, but somehow it became a full-fledged narrative. " So that's what happened. Answer your questions?" She peered anxiously at him, she hadn't known she had remembered that much.  
"Yes and No. A few, anyway. Like where that bastard Lorcan Dhu disappeared to with some of his best men. Sounds like you and Conal were outnumbered near on eight to one and you still managed to come out of it reasonably intact. But it brings up more, for instance, did you notice poison on their blades?"  
"No, They were glowing sort of a nasty reddish color, like dried blood, but I just figured they were spells of strength or sharpness, or something of the sort. It might have been a contact spell, not effective until it reached either anything living, or a specific target. Why?"  
"Because when we found you and Conal, you were both under some sort of drugged sleep- and growing steadily more paralyzed. Lady Meriel had a hard time getting you back."  
Llyraen paled. "You mean he wanted to take us alive? How would that help him?" She winced as she thought of al the ways their capture could hurt Fairgrove or even the entire Seleigh court. "Ah. I see. So why did he go for us? From what you said, you were right there, and so was he, the change of targets looked pretty well planned to me." She rubbed her aching head. "Damn. Were you under any spells?" Her gaze flickered to his arm and back to his face almost imperceptibly."   
"No, and that's the odd part. No poisons, no spells, nothing. I suspect the whole center and right attack was designed to be a diversion, keep us busy while he dragged you and Conal off. He seems quite contemptuous of us in fact." Scowling and glancing at her pale visage, he frowned even more deeply. "Enough for now. I'll come back with some food for you, but then you sleep." She just nodded reluctantly, and he took that as a sign that she was more tired than she had appeared or thought, and that called for measures.  
When Keighvin returned, he was carrying a tray with warm wine and some thin soup. "Your stomach can't take anything stronger yet." He told her, quieting her halfhearted protests.  
"Fine." She grumbled, digging into the soup with ferocity only a starved elf could muster. Soon that was finished, and she drank the wine more slowly, sipping it carefully, before settling back, her eyes already drooping despite her efforts to the opposite. "You drugged it you son of a Turkish pole dancer! You bastardly umbrella! You..." Her face relaxed as the drug took over and, still chuckling at her barely begun description of his lineage, Keighvin exited the rim, taking the tray with him.  
Four days later, to everyone's great relief, Llyraen was declared fit to hobble around on crutches. Keighvin had mandated that everyone shared the task of nursing the sick elf, and she had not been their favorite patient.  
"Keighvin!" She announced, tottering into his office to bother him yet again. "I had an Idea." AT his sour look she make a face at him. "I didn't just come here to inform you about what Conal's been doing with the barnyard animals again." Keighvin groaned and raised his hands in defeat.  
"Alright then, lets hear your latest brilliant plan." He gave her a pained look. She was better than when she had been forced to stay in bed, but not much.  
"So. I was thinking... Oh don't look so surprised!" She glared at him as he feigned shock at that assertion. "I do it all the time. As I was saying, Llyraen Seaeyes is an odd name among mortals. It's been OK for now because everything I've done has been within Fairgrove, and everyone here knows about us. But I need to get a driver's license for this state soon, especially if I want to do any driving besides on test runs, and a name such as 'Lily Raen' wouldn't attract as much attention, and if I need to do some driving outside... Besides, all my racing permits are about to expire, and they're under that name, which is not the one I'm wanted under over on the West Coast, which makes it triply safe." She smiled triumphantly as Keighvin nodded.  
"Yes, that would make sense, you'll have to talk to Tannim to find out what processes you have to go through if you have any questions. Just one thing Llyraen, I mean 'Lily'... Do it all legally so it holds up against a background check." He glanced tiredly up at her and she beamed back, turning to swing into the closed door.  
After crashing into the door, Llyraen rolled vigorously around on the floor, laughing hysterically.   
"What ARE you on?!?" Keighvin finally snapped in exasperation. "You're acting like a drunk on pot!"  
"Hee, Hee, Hee! Nothing! I'm just always naturally high after I run into doors! And I might get to drive again! It just makes me so happy!"  
"Dannaa help me girl, if you don't leave here and take your giggling fits with you, I'll let Mike practice his choir auditions on you!"  
Gasping with mock horror, Llyraen grabbed her crutches and dragged herself out the door, eyes streaming from laughing so hard."  
**********  
"I have the government." Llyraen grumbled to Tannim and Shar as, two days later, minus the crutches, they left the DMV after Llyraen had finished signing and filling out masses of paperwork and driven around the neighborhood at half her normal speed.  
"Look on the bright side 'Lily'," Tannim snickered at the name. Llyraen had challenged a young Elven Lord to a duel for calling her that, years before, and won.  
"All you have left to do is apply to the SERRA and SCCA folks now, and drive a lap or two around a circular asphalt formation, and you're done!" Shar, who was driving, swatted him playfully.  
"Be nice Tannim. You're used to following the law, for the most part. It's hard to do when you're not."  
"Precisely." Llyraen agreed, nodding her head emphatically. "I know of at least 20 places this side of the country where I could get all this done with a lot less hassle, in fact, I have serious dirt on most of the people in that section of the black market, so it'd be cheap for me, too."  
Tannim looked disgusted. "I thought you guys were supposed to be fighting the guys in the black market, not working with them!"  
"That's the beauty of it." Llyraen beamed. "They think so too. I have a wonderful communication network, I've got connections in almost all the branches of it, so whenever I see something like what Aurelia was doing, with the kiddy porno stuff, or anything like that, I can track down their business, challenge them, and rid the world of one more scumbag. Besides. There's gonna be a black market no matter what, as long as it's mostly harmless stuff like drivers licenses, it's OK, because the people in the business would be on the wrong side of the law anyway, and if that's still open and fairly safe, that's where they'll head."  
"I surrender," Tannim sighed, "But I suggest you stay out of the black market while you're at Fairgrove or Keighvin'll have your skin for a dart board."  
Llyraen looked offended. "I wasn't even considering it. I would never do something like that! I'm a law abiding citizen, I am, and I would never do anything to jeopardize Fairgrove's legal record."  
"Cut it you two." Shar gave them both a sharp glance, "You sound like you're brother and sister."   
Llyraen gave her an innocent look, "but we are! It's just in our heads, you see."   
Tannim snorted again. A long time ago her and Llyraen had sworn blood-sibs, even though she had been several hundred years old at the time, Llyraen had still been a 'teenager' as the term applied to elves.  
"Lil, is it alright if we leave the racing licenses till tomorrow? I'm bushed." Shar did indeed look a bit tired, but, glancing from her to Tannim, she speculated silently on what exactly certain 'bushed' people did. She started snickering.  
"Well?" Shar asked impatiently, looking as if she would like to know exactly what the hell Llyraen was choking on.  
"No problem, I was about to suggest it myself." She grinned and they sped back to Fairgrove, companionably and colorfully describing each other's parentage.  
  



	6. Hallet Racetrack

Chapter 6  
  
Hallet Racetrack   
  
Speeding down the empty highway at about 5:30 AM, Llyraen thought she saw the faint lights of Tulsa ahead of her, obscured by the fog that had descended as soon as she had gotten on the road. She was driving over 80 for a reason; she had to be at Hallet Racetrack by 6:30 at the latest to drive in the upcoming race. The original driver was laid up in the hospital after a crash with a drunk driver the day before.  
"I haven't even seen the damn car yet, and they expect me to drive it. Cold turkey." She exploded, talking mostly to herself but partly to Aodhfin. "I suppose they expect me to do well too. And that's probably why I have to personally be there at 6:00, to practice driving the... oh shit!" Even with next to no one on the road, the local law enforcement felt like they had to pull her over. How typical. Aodhfin slowed down and pulled off the edge, 'accidentally' spraying gravel at the large officer who had just pulled up behind them.   
"Can I see your driver's license Miss?" Llyraen handed it to him. Llyraen's eyes turned a stormy blue gray as she progressed from annoyed to irritated at a glance at the clock. Using a trick she had learned from Korendil and Bard Eric, over on the West Coast they liked to call the 'Obie Won Kenobi Gambit', she caught the officer's eyes and he stopped just as he was about to write out the ticket.   
"That'll be a warning. Make sure you follow the speed limit in the future." He handed back her license and stepped back from the car, still a bit befuddled.  
"Of course." Llyraen pulled back on the road and drove carefully at 55 until the police car had disappeared in the other direction. NOW she would have to hurry, it was 10 till 6:00 and she still hadn't reached the outskirts of Tulsa. Snarling an Elven curse under her breath, she brought Aodhfin up to 110, changing her clothes to matte black as Aodhfin changed to the same color around her.   
Having recently renewed all her licenses, racing or otherwise, as well as picking up a couple new ones, Llyraen was now able to drive in real races, outside of Fairgrove, rather than remaining a lowly mechanic and test driver. Thus her present high-paced activities.   
Finally pulling up to the racetrack's 'parking lot', Llyraen jumped out of the car and sprinted through the gate, pausing only to flash her cards in the general direction of the Security Guy before rushing over to where a mob of mechanics and other racetrack personnel were running agitatedly around.   
"Al." A skinny, darkish man pointed at her, nudging a tall man with long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail under a hat. Blondie turned to look at Llyraen, a slight frown turning to a grin as he saw who it was.   
"Ah. You must be Lily Raen." His eyes twinkled as he took in her autumnal red hair, tied back like his and white hat with the Fairgrove logo. Llyraen made an educated guess as to his identity and smiled back.   
"And you must be Al." She could tell that he was an elf too, underneath his glamour he had slitted eyes, and his hat covered the tops of his ears.  
"So what kind of car is it?" She asked, glancing at her watch nervously, "How dies it run? All Keighvin told me was that I was going to drive and HE didn't even know that until late last night." She raised an eyebrow at Al and the skinny guy and was rewarded by their sheepish looks.  
"She's a Cat 200, runs like a dream. Do you want to try her out now, since you're obviously dressed for it?"  
"Of course I would!" She snapped, scowling at the elf. Only the most arrogant and foolish driver would race in a car they'd never even seen before, and, however arrogant or foolish she might SEEM sometimes, she was not prepared to risk her neck needlessly.  
The elf raised his hands in front of him, grinning again. "I surrender! Here're the keys. You have until 20 after to get used to it." He looked at his human companion. "Have I forgotten anything Bob?"  
"Nah." Bob grunted, gesturing for Llyraen to walk over to the car.  
Llyraen did so and whistled in appreciation after a quick inspection. She raised an eyebrow at Al and pointed at the hood. : Engine Block?: He nodded and winked. :Of course: and Llyraen found herself grinning back as she got into the car and started the ignition. Purring like the Cat it was named after, the car rolled slowly out of the pit as Llyraen tested all it's many controls, getting a feel for it.   
Careful not to spin the tires or spray gravel at the observing mechanics, Llyraen stepped on the gas and whipped out onto the track. She moved from lane four to lane eight to lane one, and held it there for the turn. Unlike most cars, Llyraen had a feeling this one could take that turn, and it did. Keeping the car at the same speed, and holding the wheel steady, it was almost easy. Back on the straightaway, she put the petal to the metal and now the engine DID roar. Everything about the car did indeed remind her of a cat. She completed tow more laps before heading back in, confident that she could at least keep from crashing into the wall multiple times.  
"That's one helluva car." She breathed to Al, as they watched the rest of the team refilling the gas, and checking on all the parts. "But I'm still a bit pissed about your timing." Al just smiled.  
  
We fixed a couple minor glitches in the engine while you were driving. Bob's a mechanical wizard and when he feels something, there's something to feel." : He really is a wizard- cousins up north took him in:  
:Ah: Llyraen nodded. That would explain how Bob seemed to know about Al, and why he talked so little. The northern elves were not nearly as excitable was their southern counterparts, and rarely said more than absolutely necessary.  
By that time, most of the other drivers and mechanics had shown up and the pit was full. "They think of you as a decrepit old timer." Al gave Llyraen a sidelong glance as she studied the young drivers sauntering by. "I talked to some last week about local drivers when they arrived." Lily Raen was something of a racing legend, a pioneer of the modern style.   
Llyraen just grinned, despite religiously avoiding racing during her latest travels, for security reasons, Llyraen was by no means out of practice. "Oh?" She sounded mischievous. "Perhaps today will correct that."  
Al nodded, almost seriously. "That's why we wanted to get you out there and back before they showed up. We love surprising some of the snottier establishments that way."  
They both looked back over at the swarm of mechanics crawling all over the car. At last they seemed satisfied that it was not going to fall apart and the horde dispersed, giving Llyraen multiple thumbs up signs. She checked her watch again, five minutes left till race time, and got in. Half the other cars were already on the track and Llyraen joined their ranks, rolling once more out of the pit, and refraining from showing off as she normally did, that would have spoiled the surprise.  
In some other part of her mind, Llyraen heard the announcer broadcasting her appearance as she prepared in an oddly calm state of mind to beat the pants off of every insolent upstart out there.  
When the last car was on the track, the announcer proclaimed the advent of the race and Llyraen pulled off the safety brakes. The started dropped the flag and fourteen cars roared forward, hurtling down the track as they battled for good starting positions.  
Llyraen settled in as fifth, wincing at having to take anything but her customary first right off, but at least this way she could deal with those impertinent little humans who dared to consider her a rusty old relic of the past.  
nineteen laps later she was second and gaining on the first car, driven by Marv Goldstein, another 'old timer', with five more laps in which to overtake him. Feeling good, Llyraen glanced in her rearview mirror and noticed the car behind her pulling up slowly. She grimaced and stepped on the gas twice quickly, sending back a blast of exhaust into his windshield as her front wheels cleared the ground. That forced him to slow down for the seconds it took her to pull back ahead.  
With three laps left Llyraen pulled up alongside Goldstein on the straightaway and edged forward and closer, forcing him to pull back momentarily, in the move Tannim had pulled on her when she had raced him. She slowed down a little bit, making him drop back a little more in order to get around her. When he did that, she shot forward and into the final lap, passing the last cars as they rounded the turn on their second to last lap. She used some of them to block Goldstein, so he had to go further out onto the track to continue, giving herself another few meters of buffer space. Coming back up on the last straightaway, she roared forward over the finish line, accompanied by the bellowing of the crowd as the announcer shouted out the standings as each car came in.   
Bringing the cat into the pit she rolled to a halt in front of her team, stopping the car and hopping out to raid the Gatorade supply. Al intercepted her halfway to her objective and smiled brilliantly. He was actually kind of cute! She reflected, her errant thoughts drifting back to the real world moments after that shocking revelation.   
"Nice driving." He said simply, accompanying her to the Gatorade stand and getting some for himself.  
"Thank you, thank you very much!" She bowed, smirking at him for no apparent reason.  
They chatted for a little while, drinking gallons of Gatorade. "Well, I suppose I should leave now." Llyraen sighed, tearing herself away from their enthralling discussion.  
"Well, maybe I'll see you again soon." Al seemed suddenly nervous. "Um, I might be coming to Fairgrove for a while since this track's pretty much good to go with out Me an' Bob, and its season is almost over."  
Llyraen raised her eyebrows and smiled at him. "I would like that." He smiled back, obviously relieved. Driving back to Fairgrove Llyraen had a lot to think about. Maybe this would become a serious relationship...  
  



	7. How annoying can one over-cheerful elf b...

Chapter 7  
  
How annoying can one over-cheerful elf be?  
  
Disclaimer: Hahaha! I actually wrote a disclaimer! Every thing belongs to someone else, most notably Mercedes Lackey, nothing belongs to me, except maybe my new track shoes... anyway. I don't want to get sued for this 'cause that would suck and it would be pretty stupid anyway since I don't have any money. Reason being I blow it all on sunglasses and watches that I lose and then I buy more and I lose them too... that happened to me recently. Yeah. Consider my disclaimer stated.  
  
Editors Note: HA!   
  
Authors Note: Ok. SOMEONE is on something. Wink wink, nudge nudge.  
  
Editors other Note: Okay then folks, just thought I'd let you know, I wrote most of this chapter so it is bound to suck. I say most because Llyraen had to go over it multiple times and fix it, insert happenings, get rid of happenings, correct my spelling... that's part of why it took so long, in essence, it had to be heavily edited due to extreme cliché and Mary Sueish-ness. In fact, it is still extremely cliché and Mary Sueish. Oh yeah, and the end is pretty lame. We seriously need help here.  
  
Authors second Note: Yeah. We apologize for taking so long, and we want to get your feedback on our style so we can get better at writing. It's way more fun to write when you get responses and constructive criticism. Your input is welcome, there is only so much the two of us can think of happening, and when we run out of ideas we just kind of get really bad. (And right now we desperately need some new ideas.) Carry on.  
  
Mutual Last note of the entire note section: Sorry this took so long to get up, My internet connection in Fiji is crap, (Like trying to use a cell phone inside a submarine under the north pole to contact someone in South America.), and apparently Sarima and AOL have some differences, so she has to go to the library to get this on the site, and so it will take us longer than usual to get a chapter up. (Like, don't expect immediate updateishness in any way, shape, or form. Sometimes I can't even GET this to Sarima.) Jeeze, the complexity of life.   
  
CHAPTER 7:  
  
  
Llyraen Seaeyes, terror of the racing world, sauntered once again through the doorway and into Keighvin's office, holding a piece of toast in one hand and glass of Florida's own natural in the other.   
"Oh Keighvin!" She sang, grinning as he looked up from his work to scowl darkly at her.   
"What do you want this time, Lil? That is what you're making everyone call you now, tisn't it?"  
'Lil' smirked. "I need something to do. Scrubbing the steel toilets with a toothbrush has lost its glamour. And I finished them all anyway."  
Keighvin snorted. "Alright, you're testing some new wheels this weekend. Tannim'll be back then and that's what he'll be doing too. Oh, and by the way, Al's coming up to help us out for a while." He casually dropped that bombshell with the air of a person informing her that one of the recently cleaned toilets had overflowed and needed to be taken care of.   
"That's nice. I'm sure we'll all appreciate his assistance." Llyraen accepted toilet duty calmly. If that were the way Keighvin wanted to do things she'd play along.  
"I'll be going boss. Anything else?"  
"Hell no d'you think I'm crazy? You just offered t' leave my office!" Keighvin glared at Fairgrove's number one problem employee. "Go ahead and leave. An' if you still need more t' do, I'm sure Conal would be glad t' arrange something." He grinned evilly. Conal loved giving Llyraen odd jobs for no apparent reason, and they were always the worst he could find. Like the steel toilets.   
Once out of Keighvin's office and line of sight, Llyraen did a little jig. "Yesyesyes!" Al was coming up. That was good, but Llyraen couldn't help but wonder if she had been around humans too much, and if they're hasty emotions were rubbing off on her.   
Wandering out to the track, she waved at a couple of people and approached Sven the Swedish mechanic with unfortunately justified caution.  
"Hello Sven!" Rule number one, be cheerful and maybe they'll have forgotten the fact that you accidentally stole the precious toolbox Sven the senior gave them that had been handed down for generations upon generations. Hah.   
"Lil." Sven scowled darkly. "Don't think I've forgotten your infraction. You still have to paint my house, wash my car, and baby-sit my kids for a weekend before I can forgive you." Sven smiled, displaying a mouth full of big, strong, white teeth. To date Llyraen had fixed every appliance in his house, all his furniture, made a playhouse for his kids, and built a new kitchen table for him. After all, that toolbox WAS a family heirloom. Llyraen just grinned.   
"Of course Sven. I was just wondering what color you and Lola wanted your house, and if you wanted to go somewhere next weekend without the kids. I think I can work in washing your car sometime Monday, but I can't be sure. After all, I do have to work." She winked exaggeratedly. Monday she was doing next to nothing. "And I have a list of all the original penalty chores, so don't think you can slip another one in."  
Sven just grunted. Llyraen bared her teeth in an enormous smile. "I'm so glad we can put the past behind us. Some people are just so materially centered that they never forget things like that. It's so nice to finally deal with someone that understands the importance of harmony in the workplace."  
Sven's grumpy facade cracked for a moment and he laughed. "Get out of here you troublemaker! I have work to do."   
And so did Llyraen. She wouldn't be doing test-driving until the next day, but she could always put in some manual labor time for the track maintenance crew, and there was always paperwork if she got REALY desperate. Not Likely.  
She kenned some dirty work type clothes and wandered over to where Dotty was ordering around the motley group of volunteers and miscreants that were laboring on matters of track maintenance.  
"Oh, Lil. It's you again. Just you of curiosity, what did you do this time?" Dotty grinned expectantly at Llyraen, who was assigned maintenance detail often due to a difficulty with following orders and a habit of irritating the wrong people. Like Keighvin. Or Conal. Or Sven.  
"Nothing actually." Llyraen smiled back. "I'm volunteering since I don't have anything official to do until tomorrow and everyone else is already sick of me."   
Dotty nodded her head sympathetically. "You do seem to have that effect on people. It's all the energy and cheerfulness. You should try to be grumpy sometimes. Or at least tired. Anyway. You can repaint for a while until it clears up a bit or you want to do something else. Or leave. Since you're a volunteer you can leave at anytime."   
"Such luxury!" Llyraen saluted, grabbed some painting materials and set to work, Dotty shaking her head at the irrepressible elf.  
As it neared noon and became too hot for any sane or penalty-free individual to be on the black track-cement, Llyraen surrendered her tools to the less fortunate and appropriated a shower. After ridding herself of multiple layers of dust, sweat, and paint, she vigorously toweled herself off and pulled on some clean clothes.   
Feeling much refreshed, she strolled into the kitchen for some nourishment and ran into Siobhan, another of the semi-resident sidhe at Fairgrove.  
"Hello Lil." He almost called her by her full name, but clamped down on it quickly, grinning. There were other groups using the Fairgrove track, like Goodyear, and Llyraen wanted a semi-normal name to avoid undue suspicion.  
"Howdy Siobhan. How had your morning been?"  
He winced. "There's a big group coming by tomorrow- interested in our engine blocks, so we've had to go over every thing two and three times to make sure it looks plausible enough to satisfy them."  
"I could have helped if I had known!" Llyraen let her voice fall into a petulant whine.  
"Hah. You have absolutely no patience that anyone has ever seen, and Keighvin did na want anything blown up." Siobhan turned a wry smile in her direction to soften his words and she allowed herself to be mollified.  
"You play polo, right?" Llyraen asked, in a lightning quick change of conversation.  
"Hmmmmm. Yes, I do. Do you also think it useless, like everyone else?" There was apprehension in his voice, mingled with resignation.  
"No," She replied thoughtfully, "I don't. For one thing, I heard about how successful you, Padraig, and Sean have been in various fights applying polo tactics. For another, most of what I do is considered by the more serious minded to be useless, you know, running, soccer, football, paintball, flying, painting, playing cards."  
"You mean cheating at cards!" He interrupted, grinning. "I would'na play against you for all the gold in Underhill."  
Llyraen just smiled smugly. "Just because I win... anyway, the point is that I would be hypocritical to call almost any entertaining occupation useless. The point is that even though these occupations offer no immediate business or monetary results or obviously useful skills, I find them enjoyable, and without them I would surely go mad. Just like Keighvin."  
"And you are trying to tell me that you are not already mad. Right." Siobhan laughed again.  
"You know what they say- Every genius is just a tad loose in the box. I suppose I am no exception." She preened and smiled, arching one eyebrow and wiggling her nose at him in a comical expression. "Well, I have to go. I've got some business in town that canna wait. See you around?" She posed it as a question, since the Sidhe, with the notable exception of Keighvin, could and did leave at a moments notice.  
"Yes- we'll be around for a while, but there's a polo tournament up north in a couple months." He winked at her. "Perhaps you would care to learn?"  
Eyes twinkling mischievously, Llyraen nodded. "Actually, I'd be quite pleased. I've always wanted to play polo, and it just might improve my right-hand coordination.  
Siobhan grinned. "Till later."  
"Till later."  
Llyraen did indeed have plans in town that afternoon- plans that could not be postponed.   
Driving down the streets of Savannah, Llyraen peered intently around her at the changing scenery, the art students present in most of it, garbed black clothing of ridiculous fit and tragically morose expressions. Smiling to herself, she realized that they were on the famous cobblestone streets of Savannah proper, and Aodhfin had loosened the suspension for an easier and less damaging ride. He snaked through the traffic; grabbing a parking spot near the Irish pub Tannim had told Llyraen about, just ahead of an irritable suit. :HaHa! Sucker!: Llyraen thought gleefully. :Too bad YOU don't have a smart car!: Then she grimaced in momentary irritation. Too much of her information was coming from Tannim these days, and she was owing him quite a bit already.   
She shrugged philosophically and bailed out, patting Aodhfin on the hood affectionately as she took to the sidewalk.  
Her first impression of Kevin Barry's was good. It was the real McCoy, not one of those 'Hollywood Irish' places, and she liked the music, a nice blend of modern and traditional, plus having the added bonus of having BAGPIPES. That immediately put anything into a favorable light in her mind.  
Having eaten and relaxed, listening to the music for a bit, she paid her bill, and walked to the door, nodding impartially to various people along the way. Once outside, she headed determinedly back to Aodhfin, and pulled out, driving slowly further into the city. She got out her cell phone and auto-dialed a number, grimacing once again at having to go on a suggestion of Tannim's. He was the one who had gotten her involved in the 'On the streets' part of helping the children. It was Tannim who had gotten her all her contacts, and Tannim who had shown her how to work with the law as opposed to around it. Tannim Tannim Tannim. Her musings were interrupted when the phone was answered.  
"Hello?"  
"Heya Jimbo. Seathorn here. I needa favor." She grinned into the phone as her federal contact groaned.   
"You're gonna owe me big time pretty soon, Seathorn. What's the info?"  
"I already owe you big time. I want a suspected locale on a kid. Mother is Tienda Andrews, currently living in LA, kids name is Dervyn, possibly of same last name, possibly of Hart. H,A,R,T. Age 15, natural black hair, as far as we know. Blue eyes, golden brown complexion. Supposedly in Savannah or a nearby area. If you can hang out near your fax machine in your office I can type it up for you in a half an hour."  
"Right. 2:30 to 2:45, if not, I'll call."  
"Thanks Jimbo, guess I owe ya another."  
"Guess you do. And you know I'll remember it."  
"Of course. I would expect no less of one of you high and mighty Federal agents.   
"2:30"  
"Right. Talk to ya later."  
Llyraen put her cell phone back and pulled into a spot near a city park, kenned her laptop, complete with fax applications, and wandered off to find a suitable bench from which to write her report to Jimbo. When she finished, she checked her watch and frowned irritably. It was not yet 2:30, and she could not chance anyone besides Jimbo getting the info. The FBI was infinitely corruptible, and only her multiple crosschecks on Jimbo assured her that HE was alright. Whatever she did, she did NOT want to put Dervyn in any more danger than he already was. Instead, she fished up a couple of the files she had accumulated on some of LA's biggest drug lords, and wrote an attachment explaining and asking if Jimbo's division dealt in west coast stuff. By that time it was 2:33 and she sent the whole package through, waiting for confirmation.  
It came- her cell rang and she unhooked it from her belt and put it to her ear.  
"Howdy."  
"Seathorn, I gotta meet you in person soon. We've been looking for those two drug kings for a long time now. Where the hell did you get your info?" Jimbo's voice was sharp. Llyraen winced at once again putting her foot in it.  
Think fast, think really fast. She mentally berated herself for her obtuseness.  
"I did some undercover stuff over there. Ever heard of Raphael Montoya? Carmen Diaglo? Shady Korskoff? Those were all my catches. Probably others too that I can't think of at the moment, but I have to watch my back. Things got a bit hot over in California, especially when the boss got promoted and the new guy had an extra source of income if you get my meaning."  
"Yeah. So your new boss was dirty, tried to shut you down, and you skipped town? I suppose things would be a bit warm." Jimbo sounded a tad bit faint. "Well, how about tomorrow afternoon?"  
So, her explanation had held. And it was partly true, as well. HA HA HA! Back to business.  
"Can't. I've got a full weekend, but Monday, Wednesday, or Thursday would be OK if we get it scheduled now."  
"Monday evening be hard? I've got to hook up with the LA group for that stuff Tuesday and out, and I want as much info as possible."  
"Alright. How does 8:00 sound? D'ya know of any good bars with edible food? We can be a couple of old Harley Huggers getting together to reminisce over old times." Llyraen grinned deviously, as she loved acting.  
"Yeah, Riley's on Mason street has good food and great beer. You're a motorcycle rider?! You mean you're one of those leather and bandana type chicks?!"   
Llyraen laughed. "No, not at the moment, and I won't be then either. I'm gonna have a beard. Probably gray and bushy, long hair. A grizzled old tough who can't let go of the past. That is, if that guise appeals to you and you have the resources to employ it."  
"Of course! How bout I'll have the bartender point me out to you. Just ask him where Jimbo's hanging and he'll tell ya. You can trust him, he's one of the incoruptibles."  
"You have a greater faith in humanities incorruptibility than I." Llyraen modified her voice to be light, but warning.  
"This one I'm sure of. He's my dad."  
"Gotcha. Alrighty, Monday, 8:00 PM, at Riley's on Mason. Hah! This should be fun."  
"Indeed. This will at least partly pay your debt to me. C'ya."  
"How wonderful. Later." Llyraen hung up again and decided to wander around the park a bit, she hadn't been to one of Savannah's 'natural' oases for a while, and liked studying the people that went there. Especially the art students, they were a continuous mystery to her.   
After a while she headed back over to Aodhfin and they began the drive back to Fairgrove to see if there was anything left for her to do there. Llyraen was not really paying attention, thinking instead of Al. She was, of course, having second thoughts about the situation. She didn't really know how he felt about her, she had only met him once, and maybe she had read more into his actions than was really there. Filled with doubt, she let Aodhfin drive himself, trusting to his knowledge of the road to get them safely there, and was surprised out of her reverie when they turned off the main road and went to her trailer rather than continuing on to Fairgrove.  
"Wha- A- what the hell are we doing here?" She sensed Aodhfin's reproving thought colors. "Alright. I'll wait and see, but this better be for a good reason!" She relented. Aodhfin rarely did anything against her general wishes without a VERY good reason, Llyraen was the impulsive one, and Aodhfin was the one that got them out of the resulting trouble.  
"Are you trying to tell me to get over myself again?" Llyraen chuckled as they maneuvered up the winding road leading to the racetrack personnel trailer park. There was a shortcut between the park and the track, but since Llyraen was coming from Savannah, it made more sense to go the 'long' way. Aodhfin wound their way through the park, and Llyraen fidgeted in her seat; they were going half her usual speed.  
They pulled up next to Llyraen's trailer, and she noticed something attached to the door, fluttering fitfully in the breeze. She opened the car door and jumped out before Aodhfin came to a complete halt, and dashed up the fold out 'steps'.  
The thing she had noticed on her door was a bouquet of flowers. Roses to be precise, gently swaying in the light wind, and there was a note attached, written in the flowery script of the Seleigh High Court. Llyraen opened it carefully with trembling hands.  
  
Llyraen,  
Would you join me for dinner Sunday night, and afterwards for a stroll through the famous rose gardens of O'Hara Park?  
With Love,  
Alinor   
  
Llyraen blinked and re-read it again a couple of times, as if to assure herself of it's authenticity, not believing her eyes, but wanting desperately to. She smelled the roses, they were the beautiful fiery orange, yellow, and red kind, and idly remembered their name, Peace.  
Behind here, she could feel Aodhfin's smugness radiating out to her, but was too happy to be irritated.  
"I won't even ask what your part was in this." She snickered as the waves of smugness turned to shock and innocence. "You won't get me that easily, laddy me bucko!" I'll have you know after being around for a few hundred years, I'm not quite that gullible anymore!" She smiled again. "Oh well, whatever you did, however it happened, its still from Al. Yesyesyes!!!! Hahahahaha!!! I'm so happy! Lalalalala!!!"  
She waved to Aodhfin, scooped up the roses, and waltzed merrily into her trailer.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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	8. Restraint? That word sounds familiar...

Chapter Eight: Restraint? That word sounds familiar...  
  
Author's Note: My time in Fiji is over, I am moving to France now. Parle Vous Francai? Me neither. Oh well. And by the way, if you're ever in the mood for a great vacation, Fiji is the place for you.  
  
Chapter Eight  
  
Llyraen whistled to herself as she got ready to leave for Fairgrove the next morning; for once almost on time. Hopping into the drivers seat in of the Porsche that was really Aodhfin, she cranked up the stereo and sped down the road, coasting along well above the speed limit; the world at large reverberating with the assistance of his bass.  
Once she reached Fairgrove's driveway and personnel drag strip, she screeched to a halt, and waited patiently for the light to turn green. When that phenomenon occurred, she floored the gas and flew down the driveway, crossing the warning line in a streak of silver car and high performance engine block. She decelerated regretfully and gleefully viewed her time in the time board Keighvin had thoughtfully installed. Not her best time, but damn near close. Cruising up to the building she parked Aodhfin in the parking lot and jumped out, waving to her loyal steed. She turned a couple of cartwheels and regained control over herself, remembering that Keighvin's little tour was some time that day; she thought it might be a good idea to behave so Keighvin might let her help next time. Al was not there yet, as was to be expected of someone who (she had heard) routinely slept in until at least 11:00 in the morning, so Llyraen searched out Keighvin, whom she knew would be up, to find the schedule for the day.   
The tour that Siobhan had told her about was going to be in the morning so that the smelting process could viewed without the viewers being completely fried. It was hot in there at any time of the day, but the afternoon was murderous. During the tour Llyraen was supposed to work on the design for the new car she had been delegated to design and create, (Actually, that she had begged Keighvin to let her do,) supposedly keeping her out of trouble. After that, test-driving. Llyraen decided to go for a run. She should really be working on her car designs, but she hadn't been on a run in the area for a while, and it felt like the kind of day for a good long one.  
There was no one else out there, that far from town, and especially at that time of day, so Llyraen didn't come in contact with anyone. She inhaled the crisp, fresh air, feeling revitalized and balanced.   
Re-entering the Fairgrove complex, she headed strait for the showers and divested herself of all the sweat and dirt she had accumulated during her run. On her way from the shower to the kitchen, Keighvin confronted her with the information that their possible customers would be arriving at 10:00. That left her a half an hour to be at a desk working on her automotive design. Twenty minutes later she was. Five minutes after that she was up again, adamantly demanding that she would have to be up and moving around to accomplish anything.   
"Look Keighvin, I need to be moving around, checking my resources in order to work on this. I can't just sit there and think about it, I have to SEE my options."   
Keighvin scowled. "Alright, you have free rein to move around- but ONLY RELATED TO YOUR WORK. And I want you, if the tour ever comes your way, to behave accordingly and not embarrass us. If that is too much for you to handle, please avoid contact with the tour."  
Llyraen squirmed. "C',mon Keighvin, I've matured drastically- I can restrain my overwhelming wit and intelligence now!" Keighvin gave her an incredulous look.   
"Really Keighvin. Give me another chance. I can avoid the overwhelming temptation to put one over them. I'd hate to become predictable, after all."  
On several past occasions, Llyraen being Llyraen, she had gotten into trouble for scaring off potential customers with wild pranks, and was consequentially no longer allowed to actively participate in showing them around. That was after telling one particularly stuffy and obnoxious corporate businessman that they used the bodies of people who refused to accept Fairgrove's offer to fuel the fires in the smelting process. Keighvin had had to apologise for her and smooth a lot of ruffled feathers before that company had agreed to try Fairgrove's products. That was back when Fairgrove was still just working the smaller fish, and Keighvin did not want her scaring off bigger companies. Of course, Llyraen's main defense was that she only did that kind of thing to the worst of them, but again, restraint was an issue. But perhaps she HAD changed; and Keighvin knew that she wasn't really as irresponsible as she seemed, but still...  
"Alright, I'll have Sean bring them by your drafting domain at about 11:00. If you can manage to RESTRAIN yourself this time, then maybe you can help show the next group around." The next group would actually be mechanics, and Keighvin felt that there was less of a problem there.  
Llyraen grinned. "I always knew you were a wise, nice, compassionate sort of fellow."  
"Don't push your luck, young'un." Keighvin warned, but he was smiling.  
  
Just forty minutes after Llyraen's admittance, Sean sheparded the last stragglers of his group out of the forge observaries with barely concealed contempt and disgust. It seemed that the corporates just got worse as they got higher up. And he had to smile and answer their stupid and condescending questions nicely. The worst part was that they somehow felt that they knew more about Fairgrove's engines than the people who had created them, and did not hesitate to show it.   
He sighed and glanced at his schedule, expecting his next stop to be the track, where some drivers were waiting to drive a couple of times around the track to impress the suits. (He found himself thinking of them in Llyraen's terms, a couple of the milder ones being 'suits' and 'fisheads', for the way they never closed their mouths.) But did a double take at what was there.   
Funny he had just been thinking about Llyraen's attitudes towards corporates, she was next on the schedule, as 'The design and manufacture of automobiles.'   
"Gentlemen." They all turned toward him, glasses perched at the bridge of their enormous collective nose, immaculate and doubtless rock hard hair not even moving in the stiff morning breeze. "It would appear that I was mistaken, we will not be going directly to the track from here, if you will take a look at your schedules, you will note that our next step is not listed there." Sean paused and waited as each of them checked for themselves.   
"If you will follow me this way." He gestured towards Llyraen's workshop and started off, feeding them unimportant details about Llyraen's project. Sean was worried; if HE was having a hard time being pleasant to the touring suits, he dreaded to think what irritations Llyraen could drag up. And he wondered what Keighvin had been thinking when he let her participate.  
  
  
Llyraen herself was, at the moment, bent over her drafting table, a ferocious frown of concentration frozen on her features. She looked up as someone knocked on the door and glanced at her wristwatch- it was probably Sean.  
Sean walked in, followed by an immaculately groomed group of slightly portly, more than slightly greasy buisnessmen. Sean's expression, before he smoothed it out into a pleasant smile, told her all she needed to know about this group.   
It was really too bad, she reflected behind her pleasant mask, that the car racing business employed assholes who knew no more about a car than how to drive it- sort of. And yet they thought they knew everything there was to know on the subject.   
At least the suits were just an upfront, first impressions deal, but what got Llyraen was that they could easily have been bypassed, they were only there because they were sure that if they didn't see everything with their own eyes, someone would screw up monumentally and cast them into eternal car racing shame. Or something along those lines. After them came the engineers and mechanics, the people who really knew what to look for, and the people that Llyraen actually liked.  
"Gentlemen, this is Lily Raen, one of our drivers and mechanics. She is currently working on a design project, and has graciously allowed us to see what it takes to design a racecar." Sean beamed at them and sent Llyraen a tight thought coil. :They have their heads so far up their asses they might not notice if you exclude some of the more specific stuff. Just cover what we want in a car: He watched her face for any betraying action.  
:No problem: She sent back with the mental equivalent of a grin.  
"All right Gentlemen," She started out loud, gesturing for them to step closer to her precious drawings. "As you can see here, we have an aluminum block engine complex..."  
Half an hour later, Llyraen grinned and massaged her face, which was still sore from the effort of not laughing in the faces of all the sweaty, uncomfortable suits. She allowed herself a moment of congratulation, before turning back to her work. Even though Keighvin had let her be a part of the tour, he had not been kidding when he said he wanted some progress on the designs either.  
She had just finished calculating the aerodynamics of three different outer models, when Al walked through the door.  
"Hey Lily." He hailed, her, grinning as she turned around.   
"Hey Al. Keighvin told me you were around somewhere." A hesitant silence.   
"So, did you get my note?" Al asked, slightly nervously. Llyraen doubted from his tone that he had done this kind of thing often, at least recently.   
"Yes, I did." She grinned reassuringly at him. "And I would love to go with you." He relaxed.   
"Could I see what you're working on?" He gestured towards the table where Llyraen's drawings and calculations lay scattered.  
"Oh, those. Sure." They moved toward the table. "Keighvin wanted me to try my hand at designing a car, so this is the beginnings of one."  
Al raised his eyebrows. "It's an ambitious design."  
"Yeah, well, I'm of the school of thought that decrees that through ambition lies change." She gave him a crooked smile. "Of course, that means that there will be more problems to work out, but the end result should be fantastic." She paused as he raised his eyebrows again. "And I wanted to let the racing world know that Lily Raen is back in town." She admitted, shrugging and grinning in a 'What can I say? I'm conceited.' way.  
Al Smiled back. "Of course. Anyway, Keighvin caught me on my way here, and I'm supposed to remind you that you get the track in-" He checked his wristwatch. "Half an hour."  
"Why thank you." Llyraen grabbed her jacket. "I almost forgot."  
  
  
A/N: How was that? I thought I'd try to work Joe in in one of the upcoming chapters, thanks to James W.'s suggestion. So... Any more constructive criticisms, ideas, suggestions, advice etc. is welcome in reviews, since my e-mail has completely deteriorated. As in, doesn't work. Thanks y'all! Aurevoir (sp?)  
  
E/N: Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!   
  
A/N: Pay no mind to the noble editor, she is entering into a time of severe scholastic stress. 


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